


Caught in a ruck

by jamlockk



Series: All the ways we love [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Don't Judge Me, Fun is had by all, John Plays Rugby, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamlockk/pseuds/jamlockk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Those shirts are unspeakably tight, so Sherlock can see every taut line and breathtaking ripple of John’s powerful physique beneath it. John’s skin is shining with sweat, his hair tousled and his eyes bright with exertion as he breathes into the cool evening air after practice. He claps each player on the shoulder as they pass, heading for the ice baths and shower rooms. Many of the team are considerably taller, broader and stronger than John but Sherlock’s gaze is fixed, mesmerised by the captain as he jokes with his teammates."</p><p>Sherlock meets John after rugby practice. Then smut happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in a ruck

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of Jam breaks the smutblock. I have absolutely no excuse for this, other than I really really like John in rugby shorts and wanted to try writing rugby based smut. Unbeta'd so any and all typos and fuck-ups are mine and you can't have them. Also, no points for guessing who I based the original character on. Yeah yeah, I have no imagination.

Those shirts are unspeakably tight, so Sherlock can see every taut line and breathtaking ripple of John’s powerful physique beneath it. John’s skin is shining with sweat, his hair tousled and his eyes bright with exertion as he breathes into the cool evening air after practice. He claps each player on the shoulder as they pass, heading for the ice baths and shower rooms. Many of the team are considerably taller, broader and stronger than John but Sherlock’s gaze is fixed, mesmerised by the captain as he jokes with his teammates. John glances around as the last of the team heads inside and a broad grin breaks across his face when he spots Sherlock, watching shyly from the sidelines. He trots over and Sherlock’s mouth begins to water at the casual strength in his stride. He licks his lips at the bulge of John’s thighs in his slightly too small shorts.

“Hi love,” John says, reaching up to brush Sherlock’s hair away from his forehead. The spark of joy in John’s eyes makes Sherlock blush.

“Hello John,” Sherlock replies quietly. John leans up and presses a surprisingly soft kiss to Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock melts into the brief contact and blushes anew as a hot spike of arousal shoots through his gut and pools in his groin. John reluctantly steps back and it’s all Sherlock can do not to fall forward into John’s body, hungry for more. The scents of grass, sweat and John mingle in his nose and for a moment he thinks he actually sways on his feet. Ridiculous.

John takes Sherlock’s hand and begins to lead him down between the stands, back to the locker rooms and his teammates. Oh god. John’s teammates. Sherlock swallows nervously at the thought of meeting the rest of John’s team. They've only been dating a few months but Sherlock is already in way over his head. He’s never been well-liked and he doesn’t know how they’ll react when John appears in the doorway with his boyfriend. Do they know? Will they be accepting of their captain dating a male student, a posh, arrogant genius? Won’t they be expecting John to be with some boring, soft, curvy woman? What about-

“Stop thinking,” John murmurs fondly. “Come and meet the boys.”

John squeezes Sherlock's fingers, an attempt at reassurance, as they walk down the dark tunnel and into the bright fluorescent lights if the changing rooms. Sherlock can hear the showers running, wild laughter and the general chaos of the team washing up and getting ready to leave. He's still nervous but if John wants him to meet his team, meet John's team he shall. 

"Fellas, there's someone I'd like you to meet," John announces, pulling Sherlock into the humid room behind him. Sherlock adopts his best indifferent mask as the faces all turn towards them standing in the doorway. He clears his throat and tries to ignore his heart pounding in his ears.

"You must be Sherlock," says a tall, silver-haired player, walking over with his hand outstretched. His smile is broad and his eyes sincere, confident and calm despite the fact that he's only wearing a towel. Sherlock gives a small smile as his hand is grasped in a warm grip. The man pumps their joined hands a couple of times as he speaks.

"Greg, Greg Lestrade," he says. "We've heard a lot about you," he continues, "John hardly shuts up about his gorgeous genius!" 

Greg winks at Sherlock as John huffs a mild protest, and when Sherlock turns to glance at him John's blushing just a little, the tips of his ears turning a pleasantly warm pink.

"Yeah well, you'd be constantly going on about him if he was your boyfriend," John mumbles even as he looks up at Sherlock with soft affection radiating from his expression. Greg laughs, a couple of the others watching their conversation joining in and smiling. 

"True, but of course he's far too gorgeous for the likes of your stumpy arse, Watson," Greg teases, his friendly tone going a long way assuaging Sherlock's worries about the team's reactions to their obviously bisexual captain. 

"Oi! Eyes up!" John laughs, giving Greg a good-natured shove away from Sherlock and tugging his arm gently to make Sherlock step closer to him. 

Greg raises his hands in mock surrender and laughs as he backs away. "Well for what it's worth, I'm glad to see you so happy John," he says. John's smile gets impossibly wider and he nods, seemingly wholly in agreement with Greg's assessment of his emotional state. 

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Greg says cheekily, whipping off his towel as he saunters away. Shouts of "cover it up Lestrade!" and "these bloody Frenchmen!" join John's giggles in the air as he shakes his head at his friend's bare, retreating arse. Sherlock takes a very brief moment to reflect that, purely aesthetically speaking, it's a rather plush, attractive arse. 

John catches Sherlock looking at Greg. He raises an amused eyebrow but there's a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. Sherlock blushes even harder and averts his eyes from Greg and his nice arse. It's nothing compared to John's arse though, Sherlock thinks. He bites his lip and risks a glance at John as John walks forward to grab his towel out of his locker. John winks at him again and gestures towards a bench attached to the wall. 

"Sit yourself here, I'll grab a quick shower and then I'm taking you to dinner. And you're going to eat," John says, wagging his finger in mock sternness. Sherlock rolls his eyes but allows John a small smile and does as he's told. John grins at him, drops a quick kiss to his hair and heads off for his shower. 

"Pity you didn't go join him," muses a soft voice to Sherlock's right. He startles out of his John-arse daydream to see one of the other players smiling down at him. The locker room is clearing now, most of the team heading home, leaving just Sherlock and this player. Also clad in only a towel, he sticks out his hand in greeting.

"Will Huddleston," he says warmly. Sherlock takes his hand and shakes it briefly. Will is still smiling as he drops Sherlock's hand and sits down beside him. Sherlock surreptitiously sweeps his gaze over Will's tall form, slouched on the bench next to him. _Wealthy family, middle of three sons, English Lit postgrad, gay and comfortable with it._ Will seems pleasant enough. Sherlock can't help but notice how his eyes sparkle a little as he tilts his head and watches Sherlock deduce him. Will smiles and Sherlock hastily looks away. There's definite heat in that look, but Sherlock has eyes only for John.

"You're totally gone on him, aren't you? You're precious," Will says quietly. "You know he's exactly the same about you, right? It's lovely."

Sherlock frowns a bit and blinks. He's starting to feel a bit nervous again. Will chuckles and claps a friendly hand on Sherlock's knee briefly. He leans in and whispers Sherlock's ear. 

"I must confess, I'm quite taken with our gorgeous Frenchman. You won't tell anyone, will you?" 

Sherlock stares at Will's earnest, friendly face and shakes his head as Greg saunters back into the main locker room. "What are you up to, Huddles?" he grins. Will bites his lip and laughs. "Stop bugging John's lovely fella!"

"What's this about bugging my lovely fella?" John's voice says, and... Oh. _Oh._ John's wearing only a towel too, standing beside Greg. Will gets up to join them. All... all barely dressed... in only towels. Sherlock swallows. Hard.

Greg sniggers and mutters something under his breath to Will that sounds suspiciously like "buggering John's lovely fella". Will at least has the good grace to colour a little when he laughs.

Greg whispers something else to Will, one of his hands wandering to Will's back. Will blushes harder and flicks his eyes to John and Sherlock before smiling shyly at Greg. Whatever has passed between them, Will is apparently in agreement. John narrows his eyes but he's smiling too. Sherlock is totally lost as three heads turn to look at him. 

Greg has nothing but mischief in his eyes as he reaches forward and tugs Sherlock to his feet. He strokes Sherlock's arm and shoots a cheeky grin at John, who is now rapidly turning a fetching shade of pink. The sight of John's lizard brain making itself known makes Sherlock swoon and want to beg on his knees for John to mark him and claim his body as only for John. The heady feeling makes Sherlock's head swim as John moves to push Greg's hand away (not as gently as John perhaps thinks) and wrap an arm around Sherlock's waist, angling his body so Sherlock is almost behind him and John is firmly placed between Sherlock and Greg. Will watches this display with widening eyes, licking his lips and grinning. His pupils are almost completely blown and Sherlock is certain that his own are in a matching state. Greg concedes gracefully and casually shrugs. He smirks at John, issuing an unspoken challenge, before turning to pull Will close to him and kissing him fiercely.

John snorts in amusement and quirks an eyebrow at Sherlock. Then he's tugging Sherlock's head down into a filthy, messy kiss of their own. Sherlock rapidly loses all sense of time as John ruthlessly plunders his mouth, licking and nipping at his lips, teasing him relentlessly. When John finally releases him Sherlock sways on his feet, dimly noticing that he's now very very hard.

John smirks at Greg and nods as if to say, see, anything you can do... Sherlock glances at Will, who is flushed to his ears and panting slightly. Greg grins back at John and before any of them can react, drops to his knees in front of Will and whips off Will's towel. Sherlock can't help the tiny gasp that escapes his throat. Will's erection bobs in the air in front of Greg's face and when Greg looks up to Will, tilting his head for permission, Will can only plead in a whisper. 

Greg holds nothing back and swallows Will to the root in one go, moaning around a mouthful of cock. John grunts and gently palms Sherlock through his trousers, leaning up to whisper into his ear.

"Greg is a competitive bastard, and he's fancied Will for ages. Sounds like they're having a good time, doesn't it?"

Sherlock moans lowly and closes his eyes. The stimulation of Greg on his knees, Will's head thrown back in ecstasy, and John whispering in his ear while he fondles Sherlock's prick is too much. Then John huffs a breath against his neck and Sherlock is almost overwhelmed by John's next words.

"You're so beautiful, let me show them, love, please?" John murmurs. "I want to show them how gorgeous you are when you come, I want to make you come in my mouth, love. Say I can, say I can suck you Sherlock, please love?"

All Sherlock can do is breathe a _"God, yes, John_ " as John sinks to his knees grabs two handfuls of Sherlock's arse, pressing his face to the tent in Sherlock's trousers. He deftly opens the zip and brings Sherlock's cock out, groaning in pleasure as he strokes him. Sherlock's knees quiver and he's trembling all over, but he somehow manages to notice that Greg has pulled back from Will and they are both watching John and Sherlock intently. Sherlock looks down, taking in the bulge in John's towel and the darkening of his eyes. John smiles at him, reaching to take one of Sherlock's hands and placing it in his hair. Sherlock smoothes his fingers through the soft silver-blonde strands, then gasps as John takes the tip of Sherlock's cock into his mouth and sets to work.

John seems determined to drive Sherlock completely mad as he employs everything he knows about how to draw out the most pleasure. He licks and sucks and kisses and swallows until Sherlock is a panting, moaning mess, propped up only by John's hands on his arse and his shoulder against the wall. Sherlock long since stopped caring about the sounds he's making, and John's muffled moans around his cock echo in the changing room, mixed with the slurps and groans from Will and Greg across from them.

A crescendo is imminent, and suddenly Will is crying out hoarsely as he comes onto Greg's face, Greg working him through it and murmuring sweetly. Greg's other hand has disappeared between his own legs and soon Greg's moans can be heard as Will slumps down beside him onto the floor. Sherlock can just about make out the sound of their kisses as Will uses his tongue and his discarded towel to wipe come from Greg's chin.

John's focus and determination doubles in intensity, and Sherlock can feel his orgasm building in his belly and groin. A hot spike runs through his entire body when John cheats a little and moves one hand from his arse cheek to tease down the crease of his arse through his trousers. John's fingers brush ever so gently over his hole and Sherlock cries out as the pleasure peaks, his climax rushing over him in wave after wave of bliss.

He manages to open his eyes and look down just as John swallows every last drop of come. His knees give up and John's hands cradle his sides lovingly as he slides down the wall to land solidly on his bum on the floor. He gathers himself just enough to see John reach beneath his towel. "No, me," Sherlock mumbles, batting John's hand away and replacing it with his own. John moans Sherlock's name and comes all over his hand and the towel. Sated, he flops down to sit beside Sherlock. Sherlock closes his eyes as the pleasure finally recedes.

Sherlock feels featherlight caresses in his hair and opens his eyes to find himself snuggled up next to John's thigh in their bed. John is carding his fingers through Sherlock's curls, a smile playing on his face as he drinks his morning coffee from a battered travel mug. Sherlock cuddles in closer, his wonderful dream fading slowly as he wakes.

"Morning, sleepyhead," John says softly, tilting Sherlock's face up to bestow a light kiss. Sherlock wiggles and snuffles, throwing his arm over John's legs and hugging them tightly. John laughs and ruffles his curls.

"Gonna have to get up, love," he says. "Gonna be late for my lecture." Sherlock huffs and buries his face in the pillow. He lifts his head and looks at John through narrowed eyes.

"John?"

"Yeah, love?"

"When's your next rugby practice?"


End file.
